


the moonlit sea, to hold your hand (i want it all)

by aspiringpencilcase



Series: love etc [1]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, a culinary tv show ofc, also komui n link r childhood friends and its a disaster, also please know that in this universe lvellie hosts a tv show, this is just a shameless modern floof
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-07-28 06:58:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7629826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aspiringpencilcase/pseuds/aspiringpencilcase
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>link is made to, quoting tevak, live his life. the result is astonishing for all parties involved</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Last time Link checked, it was half past eleven of a cloudy September evening he could’ve spent at home. He doubts this fact has changed, since the last time he looked at his phone was approximately five seconds ago. 

He sighs. In his defense, the only reason he’s even here at the party is that Tevak looked at him with the most pitiful of looks in her arsenal and asked him to, quoting her, “have some fun for once in your life!”

Tokusa smirked at him all throughout the process of Link tying up his boots. 

“Why aren’t you going. You’re far more suitable for,” Link made a vague gesture with his hands, trying to convey the general idea of a ‘party full of people, drinks and music’, “this sort of thing.”

“You see, I’m very busy. I have to research all thIs stuff for my thesis and you’re already done.”

“You’re not doing anything.”

“Who says I won’t start working the moment you’re out of this door?” Tokusa asks, his legs on the table. He was completely unmoved by the deadly glare Link shoot him, offering him a smug smile in response.

“Seriously, go do something other than study and bake. Maybe you will learn how to have fun and we will all have to chip in on a truck full of ice cream for Tevak.”

“I’m perfectly capable of having fun,” Link huffed. Just as Tokusa was opening his mouth to offer a witty comeback, Tevak popped up in the doorway, her hands settled firmly on her hips.

“Are you done? I’m not leaving without you, just so you know.”

And that’s how Link found himself on a couch of a pretty doubtful shade of green with a drink in his left hand. He’s put his ankle on his knee to look more confident than he feels; Tevak is off dancing with some pretty girl and Link is glad for her, he really is. He also really wants to go home.

He keeps his eyes on Tevak, hoping that she will nod at him as a sign that they will get going soon and he will have the chance to spend this night sleeping in an actual bed. Maybe even survive tomorrow without resorting to caffeine as his basic source of energy, if he’s lucky.

Alas, no such thing happens. Tevak seems charmed by her dance partner, a girl who looks suspiciously like Komui’s sister, but Link isn’t so sure: he’s sitting in the other corner of the room, and she’s facing Tevak, so. 

Link observes them, careful not to let the couple out of his field of vision: he’s mostly there to walk Tevak home, even though she matches him in physical strength and isn’t afraid to walk alone in the dark. 

He spends exactly twenty-three minutes (yes, he’s checked, multiple times) drilling holes in the wall above Tevak’s head with his eyes. He tries to occupy himself with reciting the recipe he’s planned to cook tomorrow and he’s mostly successful, until a loud, energetic voice, sounding ready to confront him, interrupts his peaceful watch.

“Do you have a problem with Lenalee?” 

Its owner proceeds to hover above him, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

Link has never seen the guy before: his white wavy hair and sharp features don’t ring a bell. 

“Sorry, what do you mean?” Link tries his best to sound polite, even though he can’t see Tevak because the guy is standing right between them. He’s pretty sure fast drumming of his fingers against his knee betrays his annoyance, though.

“You’ve been looking in this direction for like half an hour, looking all sour,” the guy points behind his shoulder, where Link can see a part of the mess which is Tevak’s curly hair. 

Ah, that.

“Do you mean Lenalee Lee? If so, then you’re mistaken. I’m merely keeping an eye over her dance partner, who is my good friend,” Link says in his driest voice. 

To his annoyance, the intruder doesn’t catch the hint and not only stays right here, but smiles, radiant. Link has to do a double take in surprise: he usually manages to drive most people away with that tone.

“Ah, I’m really sorry then! I’m sort of doing the same thing, but with Lenalee, as you have probably already guessed,” he explains, while taking a sit next to Link. “I’m Allen, Allen Walker. What’s your name?”

Allen’s genuine smile makes it hard to stay irritated at him, though Link tries his best. He’s not accustomed to people taking a liking to him and trying to become his acquaintance; he feels out of his element, but leaving Allen waiting would be impolite, so he takes a breath and answers.

“Howard Link, but everyone calls me Link. A pleasure to meet you.” 

Link doesn’t expect the conversation to continue; they’re over the simple exchange of pleasantries which was bound to happen in such a situation, so there’s nothing to keep talking about, right?

Apparently, he’s wrong.

“You seem familiar. Are you from Blackwater Uni too?”

Link nods, not feeling particularly surprised; it only makes sense there would be a lot of people from Blackwater. He does, indeed, attend it, so do Tevak and Tokusa. He tells Allen just that, receiving a wide smile in return; it’s like Allen is happy just to talk to someone, which baffles Link to no end.

“I’m Pharmacology freshman,” Allen says. “And you?”

This conversation seems to be a little one-sided, flashes in Link’s brain. 

“Biophysics senior. Sorry if I don’t recall you, I don’t really know anyone outside of my grade.”

More like outside of Tokusa, Tevak and Komui, his brain gratefully supplies, though it’s incorrect: he is familiar with lots of people, for example, his groupmates. The fact that he isn’t friends with them it not of the consideration here.

“Well, now you know me! How do you know Lenalee?”

“Komui and I have been friends since middle school, so, naturally, I’ve been to his house. I think she was in elementary school when we first met.”

Allen’s mouth forms a little ‘o’ at the new information.

“You’re friends with Lenalee’s brother? I think he tried to kill me once when he thought me and Lenalee were dating.” His nose scrunches a little, and, of course, Link just has to notice that Allen has freckles.

He’s also pretty, well, pretty, and Link curses himself for taking notice of it: he’s not a creep who tries to hit on drunk people at parties, for fuck’s sake, and, judging by the smell of the alcohol surrounding Allen, he’s drunk way more liquor than Link himself has. No, not going there, absolutely not.

Allen looks in the direction of Lenalee and Tevak; they’ve stopped dancing at some point and are now just standing close. Lenalee tucks her hair behind her ear and giggles at Tevak, who, judging by her expression, is doing one of her famous impersonations of her professors. 

“They seem to have really hit it off, don’t they?” Allen laughs softly, looking satisfied. Link just nods, trying not to glance at the curve of Allen’s lips. Maybe his only drink was one drink too many, after all.

Two swiftly approaching silhouettes, which turn out to be Tevak and Lenalee, don’t give him the time to mull over this topic. Tevak lands next to Link with a puff, then turns to face him. She looks as if she hasn’t downed at least three shots in the span of last twenty minutes. 

“I’m glad to see you haven’t turned to mold while sulking here.” Tevak turns away and shakes hands with Allen as an introduction. “I’m Tevak; this killjoy next to me is my big brother’s friend, Link. Ugh, this was hard to pronounce.”

Link only rolls his eyes.

“We know each other,” Lenalee offers him a small smile, “long time no see, Howard.”

Tevak erupts into a fit of giggles. When she’s able to inhale without bursting into laughter, she finally manages to speak.

“Listening to people calling you by your actual name is so funny, oh my God. Also how come you know each other?”

Link crosses his arms.

“Remember Komui? Lenalee is his sister.”

He watches Tevak’s pull a truly impressive face: a mix of horror and astonishment, and grins, a bit smug. Lenalee’s smile turns a little bit apologetic, but her voice leaves no room for argument.

“Don’t worry. If big brother decides he can regulate my love life again, he and I will have to have a talk.”

Allen next to him turns pale; apparently, Lenalee has grown up to be quite a formidable person.

After a bit of silence, Allen shakes his head and and tucks a stray lock of hair behind his ear.

“Ah, Link, do you wanna play a game of poker, by the way? I’ve already played with everyone here besides you and Tevak.” he suggests, maybe to relieve the tension Lenalee’s last remark left. “Fresh blood is always good!”

“Thanks, I’m more of a chess person.”

“You play chess? We need to have you meet Lavi; he’s really good at it and he keeps whining about how no one wants to play with him.” Linalee suggests, looking a bit conspirational, to which Link just shrugs.

“This would be nice, I guess. Just don’t get his hopes up: maybe I’ll fail to provide a significant challenge.”

Tevak snorts, nearly spilling her drink on herself. 

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say.” She leans on the armrest to stand up and nearly collapses on Lenalee, who has to make sure Tevak doesn’t fall. “Oh, fuck, I’m off to drink some water, I guess.” She grabs Lenalee’s hand and they disappear in the crowd, Tevak’s puffy hair jumping a little as she stumble on her way.

Link sighs for he-doesn’t-know-which-time tonight and turns to Allen, who’s laughing again. There are glints of light dancing in his eyes, Link tries his best to ignore the attraction making its home in his veins, setting his blood aflame.

Definitely enough for tonight, he thinks, and sets the plastic cup on a small table near the sofa.

Or, that’s what he intends to do. 

“Are you not going to finish it?”

“Not really; I still need to walk Tevak home, preferably soon.”

Allen’s eyes light up.

“Can I have it, then? I’m honestly too lazy to go get another and I could really use a drink right now.” Allen’s smile is too sweet to possibly be real, Link decides.

“Haven’t you had enough, though? You don’t seem drunk, but it’s obvious you should already be.”

Allen’s smile turns a touch sly.

“I’ve got some alcohol tolerance. By “some” I mean that I can drink almost anyone in this room under the table. Except for maybe Lavi: he’s got a steel liver. Maybe you should make chess into a drinking contest.” Allen hums, apparently taking a liking to the idea. “So, yeah, what I meant to say was that I’m only slightly tipsy right now! One drink sure won’t hurt.” 

Allen looks confident and really not affected by the amount he’s drunk, so Link shrugs, after some consideration, and gives him the cup. 

Thanking him with a nod, Allen downs the remains of the liquor Link had in there. Link mumbles a small “You’re welcome” while catching himself staring at the hints of blush mixing up with Allen’s freckles.

Allen frowns, as if recalling something, and drums his fingers against his knee impatiently, like he’s asking the thought to come visit his brain faster.

“Wait, you’ve mentioned that you’re studying Biophysics, right? You’ve had the Organic Chem course, right?”

Link had, indeed. It wasn’t the most pleasant course of his life, and not because the subject itself is difficult: it is, but to tolerable degree. The professor, though…

“Yes, during my second year, I think.”

“Was your professor’s last name Moreau, by any chance?”

“Unfortunately so. Is he still as incompetent as during my sophomore year?” 

Allen huffs and crosses his arms on his chest, obviously irritated by the very memories. 

“He spends every damn class alternating between boasting how great his research is and talking our ears off about the last conference his students visited.”

“I regret to say this, but he hasn’t changed much. If he still doesn’t record attendance, then I’d just advise to skip it and learn the material yourself.”

Allen stares at the opposite wall, biting his lip, obviously deep in thought. Link reaches to pick up the empty plastic cup Allen has just set down on the floor and puts it on the table next to sofa. 

Just as he’s done, he turns around just to discover that he’s now face-to-face with Allen. 

“What did you do when he was your professor? Like did you just learn the chapters from the book or what?”

“Tevak’s older brother was in med school at the time, so he helped me.” Link shrugs. Madarao has really been a lifesaver for him back then; Link is pretty sure he would maybe get a really weak C without his help. “Do you have someone who can tutor you?”

Allen hums, rubbing his chin. 

“Let’s see, Lavi’s History, Lenalee is in the same grade as me, Kanda is Kanda. I think Miranda didn’t even have Chemistry. Nor did Marie and Crowley.” Allen’s face falls; he reaches to take the cup off the table and brushes Link’s arm in the process. Finding the cup empty, he sighs.

Later Link will blame the night’s atmosphere and Allen’s close proximity and alcohol and a million of different reasons, but it will all be later, when he and Tevak will walk home, surrounded by gentle cool breeze and the rustling of trees.

Now he just blurts out the first words that come into his head, which is, in all honestly, an occasion in itself.

“I could tutor you, if you don’t mind. I still remember the material, since I had to spend double time on it.”

Allen’s eyes open wide, the wrinkle on his forehead disappears as if by magic. 

“Mind? Of course I don’t mind! But won’t it be of trouble to you? You’re a senior, after all, you must be busy.” 

Allen’s gaze is intense; it’s like he’s trying to find a catch in Link’s words, as if a simple favour he offered is a snake Allen found while rummaging in his bag. 

Except it isn’t this complicated and the catch here is that there’s no catch at all, Link thinks, as he watches Allen’s eyes narrow.

“It’s not like I’m busy twelve hours a day. We could meet up twice a week, it won’t be so time-consuming. If you really want my help, of course. I’m not insisting, but-- 

Allen shakes his head furiously, his fluffy bangs swaying left to right. His face expression turns mostly neutral and there’s a smile beginning to worm its way to his lips. Link offhandedly notes that it suits Allen far more than the expression of mistrust. 

“No, I really appreciate the offer! You would help me out so much,” Allen says, whipping his phone out of his jeans’ pocket. “Here, we should exchange numbers!”

Link takes the offered phone in exchange for his own and types the eleven digits of his phone number into Allen’s contacts, saving himself simply as “Link”. He feels a certain thrill of satisfaction running down his spine; he also does his absolute best in order not to acknowledge it.

“Here you are!” Allen hands him his phone and takes back his own.

Just as Link puts it in his backpack, he hears Tevak’s voice calling his name from across the room. Apparently, they can finally move out, except Link isn’t even sure he wants to leave the party anymore. He had fun, and no matter what Tokausa says about it, he is able to do it, and he’s met Allen, who now is watching him intently from behind his bangs. 

“I should probably go,” says Link as he stands up from the couch, feeling Allen’s gaze settled hot on his skin. “You can text me after your next Chem class and we’ll figure out when will we meet.”

Allen nods, smiling a bit.

“A pleasure to meet you, Link, and thanks a lot for your help. Tell Tevak it was nice to meet her too!”

When Link stands in the doorway, allowing Tevak to kiss Lenalee’s cheek as a goodnight, he turns just to be able to see Allen, who’s still sitting on the same couch, from the corner of his eye. Somehow, Allen catches his gaze and waves his hand, making Link to wave back, unsure. 

The whole exchange doesn’t escape Tevak’s merciless gaze. 

“So I see you’ve hit it off?” She asks, playfully nudging Link’s side. 

“That’s literally the same thing he asked me about you two. Turns out he was keeping an eye on Lenalee.” Link responds, fully aware of how defensive he sounds.

“Don’t just avoid the question, you know I will only want to investigate further,” Tevak snorts.

Accompanied by prods from Tevak and Link’s weak attempts to change the topic, they get home soon. Tevak immediately reports that “Howard Link managed to live his life, more at five” to Tokusa, who looks like he’s a cat just handed a bowl full of cream. 

Link doesn’t bother to grace them with a response. Instead, he looks at the new contact in his phone, which label reads “Allen Walker :)” and allows himself a small smile.


	2. Chapter 2

His phone rings with a new message next Thursday, when he’s opening the door of his room. Link’s just out of classes, so the first thought entering his head is to ignore it, look through his unfinished assignments and then get to work: the earlier he begins, the earlier he’s free.

Then Link remembers that Allen’s promised to text him after his class; he reaches to the pocket of his cardigan, cursing himself for a sudden flash of hope. It can always be message from Tokusa, which will contain only the word “eggs” and, anyway, being so excited over a prospect of tutoring a freshman, who could’ve already forgotten about their arrangement, is sort of unbecoming.

Upon unlocking his phone, Link finds out that the message was indeed from Allen.

_hello im just out of my orgchem class! if u r still up for the tutoring thing, we could meet up when u r free! :)_

Link can almost hear Allen’s laughter underneath the black lines, breathy and sweet. He quickly types a reply, biting his lower lip to stop a smile already trying to worm its way to his face.

_Yes, sure. I’m actually free right now. Where do you want to study?_

_is the library of the main building ok with u?_

_Yes, pretty much so. I’ll be able to come in 20 minutes._

_ok! :) thank you sooo much!_

Link puts his phone away and grabs his backpack. His dorm isn’t far from the main building, so, if he hurries, he can even grab some coffee so he would bear less resemblance to a zombie.

He catches a sight of himself in the mirror and redoes his hair, quickly doing a loose braid.

Grabbing his keys from the shelf near the doorway, Link nearly crashes into Tokusa, who’s chosen exactly this moment to return home.

“Look who’s all gussied up! I’m afraid we will really have to buy Tevak a truck of ice cream. Or maybe an airplane.”

Link glares at him, solely because Tokusa is blocking the doorway and he needs to leave, preferably immediately.

“I’m simply going to the library.”

Tokusa waves his hand as a goodbye and manages to slip past Link to their shared room; the door locks with a soft ‘click’ after Link steps over the threshold and makes a few steps down the hallway.

The way to the university is unsurprisingly uneventful; Link gets an espresso and disposes of an empty cup just near the main building: a usual day with the usual actions taking place in the usual order.

Except his heart doesn’t do the whole ‘fluttering in his chest’ sort of thing. It’s not even remotely in his routine; Link prefers to think that he’s just afraid to come off as stupid in front of a freshman. Right.

He reaches the entrance to the library just in time to see Allen running down the stairs, waving his hand at him. He’s taller than me, Link suddenly realises, as Allen comes closer; he couldn’t see it at the party since they were mostly sitting down on a sofa.

“Hello! Today’s class was rubbish, you’re saving my life here. Thank you again!” Allen exhales, words glued together. He seems flustered, for some reason, but, Link thinks, Moreau’s lectures are just a thing to make one’s blood boil. It always worked like this for him, at least.

They find a secluded corner of the library, near the large window, and Allen takes out his textbook and a few copybooks.

“These are mine and Lenalee’s notes. Mine usually are nearly illegible, so I asked her to lend me hers. I doubt they’ll help out much.” Allen says, pointing at them. “Mine don’t even have anything written down.” he adds in lower voice.

Link nods and ruffles in his backpack to fish out his glasses. When he’s put them on, he catches Allen’s gaze with a corner of his eye. His eyes are a bit widened; something about his stare seems… off; it’s too intent, too focused. Link reaches to fix his glasses, fidgety from the sudden attention, and Allen snaps out of his daze.

“Sorry for spacing out, I’m just a bit tired from Moreau’s rambling. Let’s begin?”

They go through the material of the class with ease, surprising not only Allen, but Link himself. Allen is quite good at picking up the material; the interest is evident in his gaze. Link has always been an alright tutor: he’s patient to the certain degree, and quite good at organizing and explaining the material, so this also helps.

What certainly does not help, is that sunshine is lighting up Allen’s fair hair, making it look even fluffier than they look; Link can see individual strands, almost golden against Allen’s skin. It makes his focus blur; he thanks all gods that he doesn’t blush easily.

With minor distractions, they manage to go over the supposed program of today’s lecture in an hour. Link is impressed with how fast Allen absorbed the material; he only hopes for it to last.

Allen stretches out in his chair, like a cat taking a sunbath.

“Thanks a lot! It’s kinda easier than I thought; you’re a really great teacher.”

Link feels the back of his neck burn, maybe the part about him not blushing easy was a lie; a blatant one, even.

“I’m glad to help; I myself barely survived Moreau’s lectures. It’s basically my mission to help you out.” Link shrugs, tightening up his braid. “Consider this a repayment for helping me survive the party and, quoting Tevak, “not to grow mold”.”

To his surprise, Allen starts laughing, not really bothering to be quiet. Catching Link’s expression: furrowed brows and all, he stops, but the corners of his lips are still up.

“You just seemed so serious, both today and and at the party. Hearing jokes from you is really refreshing.”

“I’m glad to have exceeded your expectations,” Link deadpans. Allen’s smile only grows wider and, Link catches himself thinking, warmer.

“So, this time next Tuesday?” he asks, desperate to escape the dangerous territory of the light, floaty feelings inside of his chest and Allen’s open, honest smiles.

“Yes, that would be nice. I’m a bit broke right now, can I pay you next time we meet?”

The thought of payment didn’t really crossed Link’s mind up until now, if he’s entirely honest with himself. Asking money from a person a) with whom he met at a party while said person was tipsy at least and b) who didn’t even asked to be tutored in the first place seemed kind of wrong.

“It’s okay, I’m not doing this for money, so. Let’s just do it for free.”

Link feels stiff as a board while saying this. What are you doing, his brain screams, what if he asks you why exactly are you doing this? He holds his best poker face, mentally crossing his fingers.

Thankfully, Allen is so full of gratitude that he doesn’t even notice Link’s delicate predicament.

“You’re the best, thank you so much. I’ll definitely find a way to repay you.” Allen says, smiling, all sure and relieved, and Link lets out a breath.

They exchange goodbyes near the building’s exit; Allen waves at him, delight shining in his grey eyes. He walks with a spring of his step, Link notices suddenly, not even registering the thought at first. He shrugs and walks away, trying not to pay attention to the way his lungs squeeze just a little bit tight.

The first thing he does upon coming home is digging up his old Organic Chemistry textbook. He looks through the material, refreshing it in his mind, and sometimes coming across things he doesn’t even recall studying.

Link doesn’t even know why he is doing this, except he does. He just doesn’t want to think that he wants to impress Allen with his knowledge so badly; to make these eyes of his shine with wonder and admiration. That’s decidedly going too hard for a guy he just met and offered to occasionally tutor and who just happens to be handsome and, maybe, Link’s type, so he tells himself he is just being responsible, as always.

 

* * *

 

 

Their next study sessions go precisely as well as the first one, only now Link can also use the material he maybe or maybe not keeps revising the weekend before each one. Allen does look impressed indeed, and Link feels strangely proud, warmth finding his way into his veins and filling his body up whole.

Their relationship shifts with the weather: unusually cool September melts into equally unusually warm October; Allen and Link grow closer. It starts out with Allen sometimes sending Link messages during Moreau’s lectures to complain how boring they are. The first time it happened, Link was in the middle of the break; upon seeing Allen’s name flash up on the screen, Link’s first emotion was concern. Maybe something has happened and Allen won’t be able to come, or something.

_how does moreau not get tired from talking abt his wife and 3000 kids -_-_

Link huffs, his exhale coming out more as a snort. So Allen has just lost interest in the class completely and hasn’t thought of anything better than to text him.

_Three thousand? Now that’s an improvement. Two years ago he had only two._

Link’s phone buzzes almost immediately after he hits ‘send’.

_TWO THOUSAND?_

Link tries his hardest, he really does: he bites his lips, but a laugh escapes his mouth despite his best efforts. Somehow, the whole exchange strikes him as funny; he can imagine, and vividly so, Allen’s horrified expression.

_Just two, actually. He’s an impressive man, but not to a such degree. Are we still meeting up today?_

_hes not impressive, hes boooring -_- also yes, ofc!!_

The class starts and Link doesn’t respond to the last message.

They establish texting on a semi-regular basis afterwards. Allen gives him updates on how Lenalee’s doing, while Link sometimes replies with Komui’s recent antics. It’s comfortable, unobtrusive; Link finds himself getting used to it in no time. Sometimes Allen sends him pictures of cats, having Link guess where he’s met it.

Once, Allen buys him a coffee after they are done, since Link gave a pathetic excuse of not getting enough sleep for his spacing out. Frankly speaking, it is caused solely by the way Link seems to be less and less immune to Allen’s quiet charm, who also absolutely refuses to listen to Link’s objections, weak and not so.

“I did tell you I will repay you somehow, so I will try my best. That’s obviously just a little thing, but please accept it anyway.” Allen says, firm kindness evident in the undertones of his voice. Link really is in a dire need of some coffee, to be honest, so he doesn’t have a reason to say no to Allen’s offer.

They unhurriedly sip their coffee and walk to the exit of the building; Allen doesn’t have any more classes today and their dorms are apparently nearby, so Link gets a chance to walk Allen home. It isn’t as exciting as people make it sound, Link thinks, falling into step beside Allen; setting sun colours the tips of Allen’s white hair rosy pink.

They walk past the bakery, the smell of warm bread and cake frosting immediately surrounding Link, humid air only making it sweeter. He runs over the grocery list in his head out of habit: he’s instantly reminded of the cake he himself planned to bake today, just as usual.

Allen, on the other hand, seems incredibly present and incredibly interested in the bakery’s contents. He doesn’t say a word, though his stare betrays his every and each one of his thoughts.

“We can drop by, if you want to.” Link suggests.

Allen turns his head so fast that Link is actually kind of worried about his neck.

“You don’t mind? You can go ahead if you’re in a hurry, though, it’s okay.”

Link shakes his head. He does occasionally visit said bakery for the cooking inspiration, as he likes to call it, so one more time surely won’t hurt.

They enter, accompanied by the soft jingle of the little bells above the door; the bakery is as cozy as usual, sunshine dancing on the red bricks of the walls. Allen immediately rushes to the cupcakes behind the glass, pulling out his wallet on the way. Link just sort of awkwardly hovers near the entrance, trying not to stare at the fluffy mess which is Allen’s hair.

Allen is done with picking up his pastries, a tremendous amount of them, Link isn’t sure he will manage to eat all of this. But maybe they're for someone else, crosses his mind, and Link doesn’t acknowledge a tiny pang of sadness this thought causes; it’s small enough to be indistinguishable.

“Aren’t you going to buy anything?” Allen asks, mouth somehow already full. Link shakes his head.

“I don’t really like the aftertaste of the dough here. They make really colourful pastries, but the taste leaves much to be desired, actually.” He doesn’t mention that he gets most of the ideas for his own cakes design from here.

“You seem like an expert,” Allen smiles around a doughnut.

“Well, I do bake myself, so it’s hard not to develop a taste.” Link shrugs and keeps walking. He manages to make exactly five steps before he notices that Allen disappeared from near his side. Link turns around; Allen stands still and stares straight ahead; more specifically, at him.

Link wonders if he’s said something wrong and feels his cheeks beginning to heat up.

“What?”

“You bake? It’s amazing! Everything home-baked always tastes so good...” Allen trails off, no doubt remembering the exact flavour; he looks stunned, as if Link has a superpower of some sorts. The blush on Link’s cheeks only burns more, consuming Allen’s astonishment like gasoline.

The next sentence makes its way out of Link’s mouth without any help from his brain.

“I was planning to bake some cupcakes, actually. I could bring some to you the next time we meet, if you want?”

The aura of excitement around Allen only seems to intensify, which Link wouldn’t have thought possible just mere seconds ago.

Truth be told, Link haven’t planned the cupcakes at all: he was considering either a pie or some easy cake. But, then again, smuggling either of them in the library would equal breaking its rules and he still needs the access: his Bachelor degree is a thing he would maybe rather want to get.

“Thank you so much! Man, I can’t wait to try your cooking, something tells me you’re, like, super-great.” Allen stretches, the sleeves of his coat slipping down and revealing his wrists, bony and delicate.

Link begins to seriously consider taking up a job of a space heater: every time he thinks his blood just can’t run any hotter, it surprises him by doing exactly that. Now is just the occasion, Link just prays to all gods that Allen, who looks completely immersed in his food, won’t notice.

“I just want to show you the difference.”

Allen’s eyes positively shine with mischief at that; quicksilver droplets catching light to play with it some. He nods.

The rest of the walk to the dorms is mostly lazy and pleasant enough conversation about university and long beats of silence, during which Link becomes uncomfortably aware of his rapid heartbeat.

 

* * *

 

 

The cupcakes come out of the oven in perfect shape and smelling faintly of mint. Link checks the frosting: pastel green colour and, quite literally, a cherry on top.

He neatly fits them in a plastic container, which is, in its turn, just the right size to fit into his backpack.

Link hopes that nothing happens to the cupcakes during his next class, after which he is going to meet up with Allen. After weighing his backpack on his hand as if trying to judge whether it deserves to hold his treasure, he decides that they’ll survive. It’s not that warm outside and the building has AC, anyway.

The door to the kitchens opens with a loud squeak and Tokusa barges in. He looks extremely intrigued by the flavour filling up the room, sugar and mint and milk. Then he takes in Link’s surroundings: the container, the backpack, the absence of the plates, and smirks. Link tenses.

“Have you finally decided to use your baking skills not for murder but for peace?”

“Your attempt at making a joke failed.”

“Don’t be like that! You know that I’m only wishing what’s best for you; anyway, who are you cooking for?”

Link puts on his best mask of indifference.

“Just packing something for myself, it doesn’t even have to be ‘someone’.”

Unfortunately, Tokusa knows him too long and too well for any of Link’s acting to fool him, so he just leans on the counter and smiles. He doesn’t ask any more questions, but the mischievous glint in his eyes is enough to irritate Link and make him spill. Usually, that is.

This time, there isn’t really much to tell: there’s just him and Allen, who loves food and so Link wanted to try to cook for him.

When put this way, Link thinks, all of a sudden, it really does sound like. Something.

The realisation doesn’t exactly hit or stun, it sort of washes over him; grey ocean waves caressing the shore, steady and sure in their calm rhythm.

It appears that he happens to have a crush.

“Earth to Link,” Tokusa says, clapping his hands as audible spaces between the words. Link snaps out of his daze, feeling… He himself isn’t quite sure how he feels about this situation. Yes, sure, crushes are normal and whatnot, but acting on them is not really something Link is familiar with.

He’s dated exactly once, during his freshmen year, and it ended up with disaster. This is really all he can say on the matter.

“It’s okay, I’m just. Whatever.”

Tokusa raises his eyebrows, but, thankfully, says nothing, letting Link leave the dorm in peace.

Although, calling the state Link currently is in “peace” would be admittedly a little (horribly) incorrect. His thoughts are all meshed up; he has to face Allen in two hours and, wow, this doesn’t help with the whole ‘dealing with the fact that you have a crush’ thing.

The class does manage to clear his head a bit, at the very least, since the professor here is the exact opposite of professor Moreau: she presents complicated notions in a clear, easy-to-understand way, so Link has no problem focusing on the material.

He zips up his backpack and heads to the door after the class is done with and thinks of the strategy, just as he always does.

The most appropriate one, and the most appealing also, is waiting. Crushes pass, Link thinks as he walks along the hallway, steps fast and sure, and, anyway, he and Allen only associate because Allen needs help, right?

The only thing left to do is to act upon this strategy; Link comes down the stairs.

The first thing he sees is Allen smiling at him from near the library’s entrance; Link immediately realises that following his plan of action won’t be as easy as it seemed just a minute ago.

“Hello, the class ended early. Moreau said he has some conference to oversee, or something.”

“That’s pretty typical of him.”

Link prepares himself to an hour of attempts to act perfectly normal, except it turns out he doesn’t even have to worry.

Allen seems pretty weird himself; he isn’t as focused on the material as usual, but instead of seeming tired he positively brims with energy, which looks almost nervous. He keeps glancing at Link as if he is going to ask him something, but then he returns to tapping his pencil against the desk. Link can’t help noticing all the little details in Allen’s behaviour; it tips him off as well. They sit close, closer than usual, and the proximity is about to set Link’s heart aflame.

After fifteen minutes of fruitless attempts of revising and approximately the thousandth time Allen tucked his hair behind his ear, Link gives up.

“Are you alright? We can do it another time, if you can’t focus today.”

“Huh? No, no, it’s okay! I’m good. Really.” Allen cracks his knuckles and smiles, which does the opposite of illustrating his point. Link sighs.

“How about we make a small break, and then continue? I have cupcakes.”

Allen looks like he’s about to argue, but the promise of dessert seems like a motivation enough to agree.

They leave all the textbooks on the table they secured for themselves and find the nearest vending machine. Link opens the container with cupcakes; Allen’s face expression as he takes in the smell is something to remember. Link can’t help the affection stirring up in his chest, warm, unrestrained.

Allen flops at the nearest windowsill and pats the space next to him in an inviting gesture, looking up at Link.

Link sits down and offers a cupcake to Allen, who then performs a truly death-defying stunt, almost inhaling the cupcake in question while remaining absolutely starry-eyed.

He then reaches for another, eyes pleading, and Link nods, while munching on his and just maybe dying a little inside. He’s certain his cooking did receive a positive reaction almost every time someone tried it but not to such extent, and, besides, this is Allen and everything he does lately echoes deeply in Link’s chest, pulling at some invisible strings inside him.

They eat in silence, Allen obviously thinking something over in his head as he chews and Link absolutely shouldn’t find this endearing (he does anyway).

Finally, the cupcakes are history; the look on Allen’s face is of pure delight.

“That was probably the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” he exhales, his face expression turning decisive and sharp in a matter of seconds.

Link is unaware of the reason of this change; not for long.

Allen takes a deep breath.

“When are you free?”

Link has to take a few seconds processing the question. He blinks and looks Allen into the eyes; they are very, very grey.

“Uh, I thought we agreed to meet up after your class?”

Allen is now beet red, Link notices offhandedly.

“No, I mean, as in a ‘are you interested in going on a date with me’ kinda way.” Allen sort of flails his arms a little, and Link would probably feel bad for him if he wasn’t so baffled. Or so embarrassed. Or, if he’s being honest with himself, definitely both.

The embarrassment wins in the end; Link lets out a little ‘oh’ and nods, quick, trying not to make any more noises.

The ensuing beat of silence makes Link want to evaporate. Allen’s blush is still prominent on his cheeks, though now he seems more anticipating and less awkward; this is a welcome change.

“So?” Allen asks, voice hopeful.

Frankly speaking, Link doesn’t quite catch what Allen’s asking him about.

“So?”

“So when are you free?”

Ah, that. Link’s faces warm up as if responding to the flame dancing on Allen’s cheeks; now, evidently, it’s his turn to feel awkward. He’s always been sure that the phrase ‘to die from embarrassment’ is just a pretty hyperbole; now he’s kind of feeling it to the whole extent.

“Will Saturday evening do? Seven pm?”

Allen finally smiles and it hits Link at once: he is going on a date. With Allen, with his pretty fluffy hair and grey eyes and impossible light. This Saturday. As in, the day after tomorrow.

“So that’s a deal then!” Allen says, his usual cheerful confidence back, and Link nods in acknowledgement.

Their study session is sort of a failure after that; Link keeps being distracted by the curve of Allen’s cupid bow as he smiles and Allen isn’t helping his case by stealing glances, which are noticeable from space.

As they bid each other goodbye near the dorms, Allen promises to see him the day after tomorrow instead of the usual “after my class”; Link is filled to the neck with tiny bubbles of giddiness he tries his best to control.

All of Link’s efforts prove futile: he has to bite his lips all the way to his room to keep himself from smiling.


	3. Chapter 3

Link spends his Friday mostly in nervous anticipation. He’s not new to the whole ‘going on a date’ business, but there’s something about Allen which makes his insides tighten themselves in knots.

Somewhere around midday, a thought occurs to him: they haven’t established a place to meet. It would be funny, if not for the extreme embarrassment this thought causes him: has he really been so wrapped up in Allen’s proximity he forgot to ask him where they are going to meet?

He sighs and reaches for his phone.

_Hello, it’s Link_

Delete, Allen already has his number saved.

_Where are we going to mee_

Delete, too blunt.

_Hello, I think we forgot to specify the place where we were going to meet tomorrow?_

Too formal, but will do: Allen is used to him being over-polite, though he does tease him about it sometimes. Link doesn’t even really mind it: Allen is too gentle even there to actually get to him. Besides, Link can insert some snide remarks of their own of how Allen himself slips into formal speech sometimes; it always turns into friendly bickering, which is quite nice, if Link’s being honest.

Link hits ‘Send’ and puts his phone on the desk.

A moment passes, and Link’s phone vibrates; it’s like Allen was waiting for Link to ask this question, but that would be absurd, right? Link shakes his head, he must just have this phone nearby.

_ill pick you up! u live in the second dorm, right?_

Link nods at his phone, forgetting that Allen can’t see him. He flushes, feeling a bit more stupid than he’s used to.

_If it’s not too much trouble, then sure. Where are we going?_

_theres a cool cafe not rly far from the uni; the cakes there r not as tasty as urs but very good still!!_

Link can feel the tips of his ears burn from the praise, even though Allen probably didn’t even mean to embarrass him. Then again, maybe he did: Allen does get a certain amount of enjoyment from seeing Link red and huffy; he always laughs, soft and sincere, tilting his chin up and closing his eyes.

Link fires off a quick “Okay.” and starts to collect his things for his single class for today, carefully not think about tomorrow, Allen’s laughter and Allen in general.

 

Saturday comes, and the hours pass by without mercy.

It’s an hour and a half till Allen picks him up, and Link is nervous. With capital ‘N’, that is.

He stands in front of the tiny mirror Tosuka hang to their door when they just moved in; it can barely even show Link’s neck, but a small mirror is better than no mirror at all.

The door swings open, and if not for Link’s reflexes allowing him to step back quickly, he would’ve got a face full of door and a bruise or two, if not his nose broken. He can’t even blame Tokusa for, well, entering his own room. They really need to move this damn mirror.

“Going out?” Tokusa asks, dropping his bag on his bed and stretching, covering his mouth when he yawns.

Link simply nods, redoing his braid for God-knows-which time.

Tokusa stops mid-motion.

“You’re looking nervous. Everything’s OK?”

Link nods once again, sharp and quick: he is not nervous. He just doesn’t particularly like his hair today.

Tokusa gives him an once-over and his eyes widen just a bit; Link sees his face expression in the mirror, surprise morphing into the familiar shit-eating grin of his, and suppresses the urge to groan. What a time for Tokusa to be perceptive. It’s not that he usually isn’t, but.

“You’re all gussied up. Also, leave your hair alone, it’s fine. Where are you going, and, more importantly, with whom?”

Link grinds his teeth, his worries dissipating and giving place to slight annoyance. He lets his hair loose out of petty spite and starts braiding it again, earning himself a snort from the general direction of Tokusa, who’s now out of Link’s field of vision.

“Don’t tell Tevak.”

“Too late, my dude. She’ll be over soon, you may want to step a bit further from the door.”

Link sighs, but does what he’s told: he managed to walk back to the mirror while he was bickering with Tokusa.

A few moments pass where they are both silent; Tokusa is probably waiting for Tevak to start his investigation of Link’s love life. Link is baffled by the fact they are so interested in it, but he has long grown accustomed to his best friends’... well, everything.

There’s a knock on the door, then another. Tevak opens the door, smiling from ear to ear. Link experiences a sudden craving to hide under his bed, but this is childish and unsightly, so he just stands where he is.

“Did you really walk four floors just to bug me about my evening plans?” he asks Tevak instead of a greeting.

Tevak positively glows.

“Of course I didn’t! I took an elevator.”

Link gives her a stare with which he hopes to convey that this wasn’t the point at all, but Tevak doesn’t pay it much attention. She is just as used to his antics as he is to hers, after all.

“So, now that Tevak is here, spill.” Tokusa says, his smirk still in place.

“I have a date. The end. Now can I prepare in peace? Please?”

Tokusa pinches his arm, very dramatically, as if he’s trying to check whether he’s dreaming, and Tevak nudges his side.

“Is it with Allen?” Tevak asks, out of nowhere, her face expression all too knowing for Link to like it. “Tokusa, don’t pretend to be dead, I barely touched you.”

Link would ask her how did she find out, but the answer is kind of obvious: Lenalee, who is, judging by what Allen told him, Allen’s best friend. Lenalee also happens to be dating Tevak at the moment.

There’s also a conclusion begging to be drawn from that: it means Allen told Lenalee about him and Link is hit with a sudden wave of emotion he can’t quite define: it looks like embarrassment mixed with curiosity and no small amount of fondness.

He finally nods and Tevak’s eyes shine.

“That’s really great! I hope you have a good time!”

Tokusa gives Tevak a look which both Link and Tevak immediately decipher as “tell me more about this Allen once Link is gone”. Tevak nods, Link rolls his eyes: nothing uncommon.

“Wait, Link, don’t tell me you’re going with a simple braid?” Tevak asks, voice almost offended, as if Link has committed some monstrous crime against humanity.

“What’s wrong with my braid?” Link replies, fully aware of the fact that he sounds sulky.

Tokusa shrugs.

“Nothing, except it’s a bit too casual? Like, you wear it everywhere.”

Tevak nods, looking like she’s decided on something of the greatest importance.

“Tokusa, do you have a bobby pin? Link, do you mind if I do your hair? Nothing too fancy, I promise.”

Link carefully nods; Tokusa rummages in his nightstand in search of a bobby pin which he manages to find amidst tons of his stuff and give to Tevak.

She nods and takes it, along with Link’s hairbrush and a hair tie.

“I’ll just do a ponytail with a side braid, so I’ll be done in, like, five minutes.”

Link hums in agreement: Tevak has long hair too, so she knows what she’s doing, Besides, he’s always liked having his hair touched, though Tokusa and Tevak are probably the only ones who know about it: they took turns doing each other’s hair back in middle school.

His mind produces an image of Allen slipping his fingers (he mentioned he played piano, didn’t he) through his hair, slow and gentle, and forgets how to breathe for a moment.

Meanwhile, Tevak quickly does a small braid on the side of his head and secures it with the pin. Link finds himself following her motions with his eyes, making mental notes: who knows when he will have to look sharp.

Tevak brushes his hair carefully, but he’s already done it maybe fifty times out of sheer nervousness, so it’s fast and bloodless. Then she gathers his hair, including his braid, into one ponytail high on the top of his head.

“Here, all set!”

Link carefull touches the top of his head and runs his fingers through his ponytail, putting it on his shoulder. He supposes it does look nice.

“Thanks, Tevak.” Link nods, assessing himself in the mirror. His nervousness is not completely gone, but being here, with Tevak and Tokusa, who share conspiratorial grins behind this back, thinking he can’t see them, is soothing. Also a bit amusing, they should at least realise he can still see them in the mirror?

“You should take your glasses,” Tevak says, all of a sudden.

“I will take them anyway, I don’t really want to squint at menu. Why?”

Tevak just hums along the lines of “Good” and changes the subject; Tokusa snorts, but says nothing.

Link accepts it as yet another casual oddity that his friends seem to share, and the life carries on.

He spends the remaining time listening to Tokusa describing his day, exaggerated gestures and impressive face gymnastics; watching Tevak sitting on his bed, cross-legged and relaxed, exchanging playful banter with Tokusa left and right, and tries his best not to think. At all.

He glances at his phone; bold white letters on the screen tell him it’s five minutes to seven, implying that he should probably already go.

Tokusa and Tevak wave at him, Tevak wears the most somber expression on her face Link’s ever seen. It’s pretty impressive; she’s always been a good actress.

“Goodbye, Howard. May the stars guide you.”

Beside her, Tokusa bursts out laughing.

“I’m not going to the war, okay. I know what to do on a date, I’m okay. Stop it.”

Tevak nods, still looking like a person who delivers a speech on a funeral.

“It’s all the same thing. You will understand, when you’re older. Now go.” And, returning to her normal expression, corners of her lips turned slightly upwards, she adds, “Good luck.”

Link sighs in mock irritation and mumbles a barely audible “Thanks”.

He really is okay, he runs through his mind as he walks down the stairs, it’s not like he’s never been on a date. Tokusa and Tevak treat him like a hermit and that’s not true, and, besides, Tevak is younger than him, and therefore --

Then he opens the door leading outside and sees Allen.

Apparently, he is in somewhat of an opposite state to being okay right now.

It’s cloudy, and the sky is the exact same shade as Allen’s eyes, grey and fair and sweet; Allen’s wearing a jade green cardigan which happens to be Link’s favourite colour, and, wow. The prospect of a date, looming somewhere on the horizon, stops being one and morphs into a very real, tangible thing, leaving Link with his lungs squeezed tight.

Allen waves at him, smile a tad strained around the corners of his lips; Link nods and tucks a stray lock behind his ear. They probably look ridiculous to passers-by, but Link doesn’t really care about that and neither does Allen, apparently.

“Hello, Link. Shall we go?”

Link nods, yet again, and Allen’s smile warms up; they’re both anxious, Link realises, and the ropes wound tight around his lungs loosen.

He inhales cool autumn air as they begin walking towards the uni; the silence between them is warm with their breathing, deep and out of rhythm.

Link doesn’t find it uncomfortable or tense; he is used to Allen in his focused mode, quiet and, honestly, having a presence of a truck, and he is clearly focused now.

When they pass the familiar building of their university, Allen rubs his nose and looks around.

“Hold on a minute, I’ll figure out where do we head now. Ah, right, take this turn and then--”

The rest of Allen’s remark is hushed, Link does as he’s told and just stays put.

Finally, Allen turns to face Link, his face relaxed and his usual smile shining on his face, motioning to a small alley just to the left of the main building.

“‘Kay, now we just walk straight ahead and we’re there! It’s not a long way.”

Accompanied by chatter of students around them, they walk along the alley; the sky is grey and heavy above them and Link worries that they won’t be able to make it before the rain starts. Allen just laughs and pats his bag; turns out that he’s got an umbrella with him and now Link just has to try to keep the image of them sharing it far away from his mind.

They chat about Moreau as they walk; Allen retells the latest lecture, imitating him pretty well, Link has to work to keep himself from snorting. Then, when they reach a crossroad, Allen suddenly smiles.

“Well, I do have one thing to thank him for, in the end.”

Link tilts his head to the side, not really getting what Allen is talking about. Has Moreau finally said something related to the subject during his lecture? That’s certainly something worth celebrating.

“If not for him, I’d have much harder time getting to know you. You have got quite a presence, you know.”

It’s only due to Link’s natural coordination skills he manages not to trip over Allen’s words.

“Have you just called me intimidating?” Link tries his best to deadpan, only to fail miserably.

“You have done it yourself! Oh, look, we’re here.”

Allen points at a small building, red brick walls and window box flowers; if cozyness had a physical form, it would manifest itself in this particular way.

It’s just as pretty on the inside, hushed warm colours mixing with sunlight. It’s very… Allen, to have a date in a place like this, and Link hasn’t been in such in a good mood for a long while.

They order a slice of cake each; Allen is also seduced by a particularly bright looking cupcake. Link asks for two cups of green tea, since he knows that Allen likes to drink it in-between his endless mugs of coffee, and gets himself a grateful look.

Link looks through menu and actually does find some of the pastries worth trying to replicate at kitchen. He doesn’t realise he’s frowning until the waiter politely clears his throat and asks whether something is wrong. Allen laughs, soft, and Link apologizes hastily.

He does ask to keep the menu.

“Told you they are all pretty.” Allen’s voice is downright triumphant, and Link shrugs.

“I could bake some for you, they don’t seem all that difficult.”

Allen’s blush, slowly painting his cheeks a faint shade of pink, is just barely visible.

“This would be amazing.”

The waiter brings their order, Allen thanks him with a sunny smile on his face and digs into his food.

It’s rather endearing to watch, Link thinks, amused, cutting his slice into small pieces: he has about a half left when Allen is done with his.

Allen talks in-between bites, feeding Link stories about Lenalee and Lavi and Kanda, telling him about latest Moreau shortcomings, radiating steady, overwhelming kindness towards the world. Link finds himself drowning in it and taking it in instead of oxygen, slipping crumbles of it into the whipped cream of his cake, only to make it sweeter.

It’s not the first time Link notices how easy it is to open up around Allen; he peppers up their conversation with dry snide remarks, with rather hilarious stories of his own: about Komui, about Tevak and Tokusa. He doesn’t do it just around anybody: just around his closest friends, and, now Allen, apparently.

He can’t even recall when exactly he started to feel the pull nudging him to become closer to Allen: maybe when he stood in his kitchen, cooking for him, maybe when he tutored him, maybe at the damn party even. It’s the best kind of unsettling Link’s ever experienced.

They talk, unhurried and easy, Link smiles at Allen’s stories; they discuss Allen’s classes, then the topic of their conversation easily morphs into their common subjects, then Allen asks about the research Link is helping with in university, and it flows on and on and on.

It’s starting to get dark already; Link and Allen exchange glances: they should probably get back. Link pays their bill and leaves the waiter a tip, not listening to Allen’s protests: he’s got a stable, if not very large, income from his lab work, he can afford treating Allen to food.

It warms Link up all over, and seeing Allen’s embarrassed and grateful smile solidifies the lightness in his stomach.

Link walks Allen to his dorms, comfortable silence wrapping around them on their way; it’s nice.

“I really enjoyed hanging out with you. Let’s have another date sometime?” Allen suggests, playing with the strap of his bag absent-mindedly.

“Is next Saturday fine with you?” is out of Link’s mouth faster than he can think about what to say. Allen’s eyes are laughing; Link has never been so aware of the existence of his cheeks, which are simply burning.

“Sure thing. Still meeting up after Moreau’s lecture?”

Link nods, Allen reaches for his palm, looking up at Link, as if asking for permission. After another nod, strained and small, he squeezes it. Link’s palms are dry, and he’s incredibly grateful for this simple fact.

Link’s throat feels like sandpaper long after he waves Allen goodbye and watches him disappear in the entrance of his dorm.

 

They fall into an easy routine, which might seem boring for some people: dates on Saturday and Wednesday, tutoring on Thursday and Tuesday. Link likes the way Allen’s presence didn’t leave his carefully organized life in disarray, but wormed its way into Link’s days and mornings and nights.

They text on a regular basis, Allen still sends him pictures he’s taken on the street, in the bakery, his selfies; it never fails to make Link smile. Link, in turn, sends him updates on his life peppered with dry humor Allen seems to have really taken to.

“You’ve been, like, small-smiling for two weeks now. Is Allen really that good?” Tokusa asks him one day, when Link reaches to the switch to turn the lights off.

Link shrugs; the lights go off with a quiet click.

“Small-smiling isn’t even a thing.”

Tokusa’s face looks downright ominous in the faint glow of his phone screen.

“I just thought of it, so, starting today, it’s officially a thing. Also, don’t evade my question.”

Link just hums lightly, and climbs up to his bunk. He has a date tomorrow and Tokusa is not going to wheedle anything out of him; he has all the reasons to be in a damn good mood.

Approximately twenty hours later, Allen is feeding ducks in a park, while Link tells him about the latest disaster in the lab. Allen hums in all the right places, looking at him while tossing bread in the pond absent-mindedly. His lower lip is red in the places he’s bitten; Link finds the sight both endearing and magnetic.

The ducks look absolutely thrilled, as far as birds go, at least.

Allen seems oddly contemplative tonight; he studies Link’s face with unnerving scrutiny. Link tries his best not to pay attention to how Allen studies every inch of his face, seemingly not even noticing he’s doing it; he looks at Allen’s palms instead, long fingers against soft bread crumbles.

It doesn’t make his position any easier; after ten minutes of half-assing telling a story and trying not to stare at the way Allen’s hair curls just so near his cheekbone, Link snaps.

“Is there something wrong?”

“Can I kiss you?”

They speak at the same time; Link’s eyes widen. He feels himself stiffening, whilst his brain turns into some weird sort of goo and refuses to come up with an answer, even if Link himself is completely on board with the idea.

Allen flushes scarlet, gripping the poor loaf of bread so hard Link catches himself waiting for it to start dripping water.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to! It’s just, that, uh…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence, instead biting his lip for probably the hundredth time for the evening.

Link sighs and doesn’t try to keep the corners of his mouth from lifting slightly up; he also leans in to kiss Allen.

It’s soft, chaste; Link doesn’t close his eyes so he sees Allen’s eyelashes fluttering, a subtle, hushed thing. Link has to tilt his head up a bit, since Allen has a few centimeters on him; it isn’t exactly comfortable, but there’s strange intimacy to the position.

He pulls away and takes in Allen’s wonderstruck look.

“Hope this was good enough for your liking.” Link says, speech carefully proper and measured, although he certainly has a hard time managing that. He’s hit with a sudden wave of self-consciousness and he is absolutely sure he’s blushing as hard as Allen, if not even harder.

Allen has the audacity to actually laugh, his eyes twinkling, bright and sly and wonderful; Link was doomed from the start, from the moment he entered the doors to the damn party, from the moment he was born, probably. It’s altogether too poetic, but Link has always been an all-or-nothing kind of guy and, besides, Tokusa doesn’t call him a “secret romantic” for nothing, even in spite of several pillows he’s gotten to his face for that back in middle school.

“Not enough data,” Allen says in his best “I-am-currently-studying-to-be-a-scientist” voice, “will probably have to conduct a few more tests.”

Link’s glare manages to come off so weak that Allen doesn’t even pretend to be affected.

Instead, he brings their lips together one more time. He’s still laughing, so it’s not perfect at all, and Link is grateful for the jarring reminders of the fact that this is all real and not his feverish dream. Allen is still holding onto his bread like a lifeline, but he still manages to wrap his hands around Link’s waist and cross them together; Link firmly grips Allen’s elbows. And then once again, and more, and more, and more.

The ducks quack merrily, blissful in their ignorance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm done. holy fuckin g

**Author's Note:**

> "soph maybe u have to consider stopping naming all of ur fics after metrics songs"  
> me, holding onto pagans in vegas: how about maybe no


End file.
